


Burn

by Piscaria



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 10:51:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piscaria/pseuds/Piscaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this prompt:<br/>A place where your character is living or visiting begins to burn. The character has a few moments to escape. What does he/she grab — save?— before getting out of the fire? Why?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn

When Derek smelled the first hint of smoke through the walls of the shabby apartment he’d been staying in, he froze. For a moment, just a moment, he remembered the door to his biology classroom opening and the school counselor stepping inside. She’d smelled of pity and apprehension, and Derek’s heart started to jackrabbit in his chest even before she laid a hand on his shoulder, said, “Derek, come with me, please.”

He’d followed the counselor out of the classroom to find Laura already waiting in the hallway, leaning back against the wall, her eyes closed, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of the leather jacket she wore over her cheerleader’s outfit. Her face might have looked impassive to the students peering through the classroom window at her, but Derek could see the muscles twitching in her jaw, smell the solid anguish rolling off her like a warning.

“What’s going on?” he asked, looking from Laura to the counselor.

“Let’s talk in my office,” the counselor said, beckoning them forward. But Derek crossed his arms across his chest, and Laura shook her head. When she lifted her face, her lips were trembling with the effort it took to control her expression, and for a second, just a second, her eyes flashed red instead of the familiar blue Derek was used to seeing when her control broke.

“They’re dead,” she’d choked. “Derek, they’re all dead.”

The fire alarm caught the smell moments after Derek’s senses had. He let the wail of the alarm wash over him like the dark clouds of smoke beginning to billow in from the doorway.

He remembered curling into a ball on the blackened floor of his family’s charred-husk living room, guilt knifing through his stomach until he thought he might die of it. Remembered Laura’s scent rising over the acrid, ashy scent of death. He remembered watching the silent fall of her sneakers on the floorboards, little billows of ash rising up with each step, until the white canvas turned gray. She’d settled on the floor beside him and curled protectively against his side. Derek had stiffened. Part of him wanted to throw her off, to scream that he didn’t deserve her comfort, didn’t deserve anything at all. Part of him wanted to sink into the comfort of a Packmate’s touch, of an Alpha’s commanding presence, to find solace in his wolf and escape his human guilt, if only for a little while. In the end, Laura’s scent of despair decided the issue for him. She, too, longed for Pack, for solace, but unlike Derek, she actually deserved it.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, held her close. She rested her head against his shoulder, gripping his wrist hard enough to bruise. The pain centered him, slowly evened out his breathing. He could feel Laura’s body trembling with suppressed sobs, but the face she’d pressed into his neck was dry.

After a long while, she pulled away, looking deeply into his eyes. “They’d want us to keep going, Derek,” she’d said.

He’d swallowed hard, realizing that she’d smelled his guilt, but misinterpreted the cause of it. He opened his mouth to correct her, then closed it again. She’d already lost everyone she loved. It wouldn’t be fair to make her shoulder his unwitting betrayal as well.

She’d stood, wiping the ash off her jeans, and offered him a hand up. He’d ignored it, rising on his own. She’d given a tiny nod of approval, and bumped her shoulder against Derek’s as she started towards the door.

“Come on. There’s nothing left for us here.”

Derek shook himself, drawn out of his memories by the ever-thickening clouds of smoke, the new sound of flames crackling in the corridor outside. He could feel the heat of the fire in the hallway as it neared his tiny apartment. Five minutes, he thought, maybe ten until the walls went up in flames around him. Did his parents get even a fraction of that warning?

Derek spared a quick glance for the window to make sure nobody was watching, then crashed through it, trusting his body to heal the network of cuts exploding over his skin and to absorb the impact of the four-story drop. He didn’t bother taking anything with him. He felt guilty enough for taking himself.


End file.
